


Bounty Rewrite

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-27
Updated: 2006-03-27
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:20:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8090911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: What if Archer were in decon with T'Pol instead of Phlox? Alternative take on 2.25 "Bounty." Pon farr. (01/20/2006)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: How can I explain my inability to write lately? In a word: fear. Writing used to come easily to me like swimming. My procrastination and my writer's block I have realized all stem from my fears of writing. The fear of not being good enough. The fear of not knowing what to do next. The fear of failure. And when I try to dive into a story again, I find myself freezing up. Or I walk around the edge and don't even touch the water. This story is, like the Norah Jones song says, my toes touching the water. Don't worry. I think of this as the kiddie pool on the way back to the First Years. This story is far from perfect. I have to get my writing muscles back in shape.   


* * *

"That hand hold was fine when I used it," Jon said crouching on a flat, tan rock beside Trip.

"Well you must have loosened it up then."

Jon looked above them at the shear cliff face made of the same tan rock. He'd climbed similar cliffs on Earth so many times he'd lost count. Trip had some climbing experience, but he wasn't an expert. Also, it had been a while since either of them climbed anything except ship ladders. That's why Jon insisted they use safety gear. If he hadn't insisted, Trip wouldn't be sitting there talking to him.

"Sure, whatever you say Trip."

Now wasn't the time to argue about what happened. Jon looked around. Four miles of rocky foot hills and forest stood between them and the shuttlepod. "Sorry Trip, it doesn't look like you'll get the pleasure of me carrying you out of here."

Trip rolled his eyes. "Very funny. I'd laugh if my leg didn't hurt like hell. Are you sure you didn't hit your head? I think you're confusing me with Jeminez."

Archer groaned. How long would Trip tease him about her? The youngâ€”he corrected himselfâ€”very young ensign blushed and stammered at the sight of him.

Jon tilted his head to the left assessing Trip's face with a wiry smile. "Now that you mention it. You two do look alike." Jon dodged the small rock Trip threw at him and laughed.

His thoughts turned back to Trip's broken leg. While his scanner told him Trip wasn't in any danger, Jon needed to get him back to the ship.

"Looks like we'll have to cut our vacation short. I'll call Hoshi."

Trip held up his left hand, the one that didn't unconsciously rest on his broken leg, in protest. "Wait a minute. You don't have to leave on account of me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Someone has to pry T'Pol away from the 'fascinating variety of plant and animal life'."

"You know T'Pol. She'll come back on time."

"I know," Trip sighed, "This is your day off. Stay and enjoy it."

Jon knew Trip wouldn't budge. And since every minute they talked meant a minute more than Trip endured pain, he relented. "Okay. I'll stay. But have Malcolm contact me if anything happens."

"Sure thing Captain."

* * *

His communicator chirped fifteen minutes into his walk back to the shuttlepod. Phlox informed him Trip would be fine. The process of healing the fracture required he be on limited duty for several weeks. After thanking the doctor, Jon signed off.

Jon closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of fresh air. The wind caressed his face. Even with the blue sun baking down on him, the temperature felt perfect. A smile spread across his face. Trip was right. He needed this.

Jon looked up at the sky. This planet was actually a roughly Earth sized moon in orbit of a gas giant in the Hawkings system. Hawkings IV dominated the sky with its prominent bands of white, red, brown, yellow, and orange clouds. The swirling storm that covered most of the southern hemisphere could swallow Jupiter. Seven of the other moons orbited close enough to this moon to be visible in the daytime sky. The sight humbled Jon making him remember how small and insignificant he was.

He didn't find T'Pol in the clearing where they'd landed the shuttle. After packing his climbing gear away in the shuttlepod, he used his scanner to find her and set out in her direction.

It didn't surprise him to find her kneeling among the silver leaves scattered at the base of one of the orange tree trunks. It also didn't surprise him that she heard him before he had the chance to speak.

"Captain," she looked at him puzzled, "you told me you would be climbing with Commander Tucker."

"I know. Trip fell and broke his leg. I had him transported back to Enterprise."

T'Pol looked at him unsurprised.

"You don't have to say 'I told you so'."

"Told you what?" T'Pol said innocently.

"Never mind..." he looked around at the seemingly endless horizon of trees and underbrush. Looking up he saw the canopy several feet above his head. "Have you found anything interesting?"

"Seven of the trees species I have scanned share a common means of procreation." He followed her over to a nearby tree. "Do you see the smaller trees surrounding this one?"

"Yes."

She pointed her scanner at the tree. Jon leaned in close to her to read the screen. "The roots of this tree are connected to its offspring."

Meeting his eyes, she continued, "The parent tree sustains the trees until their own root systems are fully developed."

Archer half-smiled and looked at the trees. "Fascinating."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow to him using one of her favorite words. "Indeed."

They exchanged another look. "T'Pol, what are your plans for the rest of the day?"

"My plans have not changed since this morning."

His smile widened. "I thought I'd take in the scenery. Do you mind if I walk with you?"

"I do not mind."

* * *

Jon turned on the shower and stepped under the spray. Clumps of leaves, fruit, dirt, and other things he couldn't identify washed off his face and out of his hair along with the sticky substance that had held them in place. He lathered up his hair and body hoping the smell would wash away too.

Turning off the spray, Jon wiped himself dry and dressed in a fresh pair of blue underwear. He walked into the adjoining decon chamber to find T'Pol already smearing decon gel on her face. He turned around to give her some privacy. As he opened the canister, a whiff of the purple gel hit his nose. Still the same antiseptic smell. Maybe he should suggest a scent like mint to Phlox. Anything would be better than a scent that reminded the crew of hospitals.

Jon glanced over his shoulder at T'Pol. He could have sworn he felt T'Pol's eyes on him. His overactive imagination must be at work again. T'Pol's fingers applied gel to her shapely legs. Maybe the smell of the decon gel should be awful. It helped distract him from his libido a little.

T'Pol looked up catching him staring. Turning back around, he willed himself to get a grip. The mantra, she's my first officer, repeated in his head.

Trying to divert his attention, he asked, "Has Phlox talked to you about what contamination we brought back?"

"No."

"Maybe I should comm him."

"The doctor will contact us when he's finished his analysis."

Jon sighed and shook his head. She was right of course.

"Could you help me with my back?"

Damn. "Okay." He accepted her tin of gel.

She's my first officer...who is pealing up her tank top. No matter how many times they shared decon together, her beauty still affected him. He maneuvered his attention to something he'd been meaning to do, "I think I should apologize for this afternoon."

"I do not remember you doing anything wrong."

Jon resisted the urge to start with her ears. She could reach the delicate sculpted points herself. He smoothed the gel over her shoulders in a circular motion. She relaxed under his hands unconsciously leaning into them. Too busy trying to act like a gentleman despite the ungentlemanly fantasies taunting him, Jon didn't notice.

"I should have listened to you. I thought you were in danger and I reacted." His hands glided down her spine.

Her voice dropped and sounded strained, "A logical response to threatening behavior by an animal."

He felt a shiver run through her body. That had never happened before. "Are you cold?"

"No. Please continue," she said in an even lower voice.

"If I hadn't push you out of the way, none of this would have happened."

When his fingers caressed the small of her back, he realized he'd been taking longer than he needed to. He handed her tin of decon gel back to her.

"The male would have defended his mating nest whether or not you interfered. You were protecting me like he was protecting his mate."

"I'm your Captain. I should trust your judgment. I didn't."

Jon thought over his decision again. T'Pol happened upon an unusual looking bush which turned out to be a mating nest carefully constructed from fallen twigs, leaves, and other materials from the forest by a pair of lizards. The male emerged from the nest. He beat his broad tail against a rock several times. Then his mouth opened wide a high pitched non-stop scream came from him. T'Pol told Jon to stay where he was. She backed away from the lizard slowly. The the two foot long lizard stopped beating its tailed and stood up on three legs. Scales covering its body raised up. When the lizard stepped towards T'Pol, Jon instinctively reacted pushing her out of the way. T'Pol tumble in his arms down the hill.

"Do you require assistance?"

How could he get out of this? All he could think about was assisting her out of her underwear. The way she was looking over his body, probably for some logical reason he couldn't fathom, wasn't helping.

"Sure."

T'Pol's hands worked their way over his back with excruciating slowness. Heat from her skin relaxed his muscles as her fingers kneaded the gel into his skin. When her fingertips momentarily dipped below his waistband he stifled a groan. Did she know what she was doing to him? Of course she didn't. T'Pol would never...

She pulled back from him abruptly. By the time he turned around, she was already seated on the bench.

Jon joined her eying her curiously. Mentally shaking his head, he dismissed his crazy thoughts.

He remembered their conversation. "I thought I was protecting you from an attack. My actions caused it to spit venom at us."

T'Pol placed a hand on his bare shoulder. "Do not blame yourself. You had no foreknowledge of how the creature would react."

Jon looked dumbfounded at her hand. He didn't notice until then that she'd moved to sit so close to him. Heat radiated from her hand and body. In her eyes, he thought he saw something. Something he'd wished many times to see there. Before he could be certain of seeing it, she blinked and dropped her hand back to her side.

"I need to meditate," she said as if that excused everything.

* * *

"I apologize for keeping you waiting Captain and Sub Commander. A minor emergency interrupted my analysis of the sample."

"That's alright doctor. What did you find?"

"The venom contained numerous strains of bacteria. I need to keep you both in isolation, so I can run more tests."

"Do what you have to do." He silently added, just make it quick before I make a total ass out of myself in front of my first officer.

"Oh, feel free to wash off the decon gel whenever you want."

T'Pol moved back to the bench. Jon contacted Malcolm to make a few arrangements. He also asked T'Pol if there was anything she needed. When the comm closed, they both headed for a shower.

* * *

A stack of padds arrived while he pulled on a clean blue undershirt. Crewman Zakara delivered them through the one way drawer. When Jon leaned over to set T'Pol's stack on the bench, her eyes opened and darted to his lips.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Jon hovered inches away from her stunned. She looked at him with desire in her eyes. He blinked and the emotion vanished. Clearing his throat, he turned away from her and sat down on the opposite end of the bench.

"If you're finished with your meditation, I thought we could go over next week's duty roster."

T'Pol swallowed and looked down at her feet. "I have scans to review."

"Okay. We can do that later. What scans are you reviewing?"

"The ones I made of the Robinson nebulae."

"Oh." Memories of A.G. and the trip to the nebulae with T'Pol resurfaced. "I know I thanked you before, but I'd like to thank you again for coming with me. I needed someone to talk to. I just didn't know it at the time. I hope I can return the favor someday."

T'Pol nodded. "You already have many times."

Jon weakly smiled. He didn't know how to respond. "I'll let you get to those scans."

Jon looked over several reports before dinner came. He and T'Pol ate in silence until he heard a tapping noise.

"Your hand is shaking."

T'Pol looked down at her fork tapping against the plate. She placed her plate back on the tray that rested beside her.

"The temperature is colder than I'm accustomed to."

"Then why are you sweating?" He pointed to her forehead.

"I feel fine," she insisted.

"You don't look like you do. We should tell Phlox. The bacteria might be causing your symptoms."

He stood up and crossed to the comm. T'Pol blocked his path. Her eyes locked with his.

"I know what is happening. The bacteria are not responsible."

"How can you be sure about that?"

"I know."

"You're not talking about your Pa'nar syndrome are you?"

"It is something private. Vulcans do not speak of it with out worlders. I can't speak of it with you."

So much for growing past their prejudices. Did She still considered him an alien not worthy of trust? "Okay. I understand that, but Phlox is your doctor. He's bound by confidentiality. If you want to speak to him alone, I can leave the room."

"What I need the doctor cannot provide. With meditation I can manage the symptoms."

"Okay."

Jon shook his head. He couldn't force her to talk to Phlox Though he suspected she would have no choice. Not hungry anymore, he gathered his tray and dropped it down the incinerator shoot.

"I'll be in bed if you need me." He took his stack of padds with him.

* * *

"Captain. The scans are still showing the bacteria in your system. Administer this hypo spray to yourself. If you experience any nausea, fever, or other symptoms let me know."

"Sub-commander, I need to speak with you alone."

"I'll be in the other room," Jon said leaving T'Pol in her sweat soaked underwear and tank top to talk to Phlox.

Phlox turned the intercom down below human hearing range. Jon could hear T'Pol's response. He couldn't hear what words she said, but the vulnerability in her voice disturbed him.

* * *

_What I need the doctor cannot provide._ She needed something to cool the fire licking at her senses before it consumed her whole burning away all of her logic and control.

While Jon slept, Phlox contacted her and told her he indeed could not provide a cure in time. The alien bacteria in her system were dead, yet the symptoms of her pon farr still continued.

"Lock me away."

For a moment she didn't know if Phlox heard her plea. "I won't do that."

"It is the only logical solution. You have no reason to keep me here any longer. If you confine me to my quarters, the captain will be safe from harm."

"You are letting fear cloud your logic. Look at your reasoning. You are choosing madness and death because you are afraid of what you don't understand. You're afraid of him seeing how savage and emotional you can be. You're afraid of how this will affect both of you when the fever passes."

T'Pol looked at him in disbelief as the truth of his words became apparent to her.

"The longer you wait to ask for the Captain's assistance, the more you endanger him. You still possess some control over your actions. Don't wait until the fever takes all of it away from you."

"I cannot ask him to risk his life to save mine."

"He has risked his life willingly for you many times. I think you will find he will do so again if given the choice."

"I will not let him."

"How do you think he will feel after you die? Are your fears worth inflicting that pain on him?"

A trickle of sweat slid from T'Pol's forehead to her chin. She blinked but didn't respond.

"What about the crew? They depend on you as first officer and science officer. What will happen if you die? You are abandoning your responsibility to your captain and your crew because of your fear."

"No," the denial escaped her lips on her hushed breath.

"You have a choice Sub-commander. Do nothing and let the pon farr kill you. Or do something that even the most logical Vulcans have done to save their lives."

T'Pol looked through the shine of the glass separating her from her friend. She swallowed the gratitude threatening to escape her throat.

"Your logic is sound doctor."

A hint of a smile curved his lips. "I'll see to it that you are not disturbed. The vital sign monitors will alert me to any...damage to either of you."

With that he slid the privacy shutter over the window. T'Pol sank to her knees to meditate for a few minutes. Hearing the rhythmic breathing from the other room temporarily held back the flames.

* * *

"Jonathan." Jon mumbled hmmm but didn't awaken. "Jonathan."

His eyes blinked open looking up at her, "T'Pol?"

"I need to talk to you."

Jon smoothed his hand through his hair and yawned, "What about?"

She hesitated not knowing the best way to broach the subject. His hand smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt caught her attention. She glanced away and slowed her rapid breathing.

"Phlox informed me he cannot find a cure for my condition."

"I thought you already said the cure you need he can't provide."

"That is not correct. He can provide the cure, but I would not want it from him."

"You've lost me. What is this cure you're talking about, and what is your condition?"

"It is a thing that Vulcans do not speak of. A time when all logic is ripped away from a Vulcan. Our primitive nature takes control and we must mate or die."

Jon froze. If T'Pol wasn't trying hard to maintain her control, she might raise her eyebrow at the sight of him at a loss for words.

Then the spell was broken. Emotions surfaced on his face only to be replaced by others before she could identify them. "You're going to die if I don't mate with you?"

"Yes."

She had an idea of what he thought in those silent gaps in their conversation. How could he say no and let her die? Why didn't she tell him sooner? What would happen after her logic was restored?

"Are you sure you want to mate with me? If you want someone else-"

"I want you."

Those words she could see cemented his decision. T'Pol couldn't say where they came from, but they were true. The desire in his eyes drowned out the words he spoke next.

If he were Vulcan, he would burn for her and his fire would put out hers. When his cool hands touched her, she understood his true nature. Her memory took her back to San Francisco. Walking down a city street, rain fell gently on her skin. She felt the same sensation again as his emotions seeped into her.

He touched her at first with hesitation. Then her arms wrapped around him bringing him to her. Her lips brushed his giving him permission. Gentleness gave way to urgency. Emotions poured through his lips. She moaned taking him under with her.

His hands coaxed her clothing off while his lips traveled to her ear whispering long silent desires into it. He blinded her with fabric for a moment.

She whispered his name as a plea. He looked at her a man memorizing every touch, every gasp and moan, and every Vulcan word that escaped her lips. Trembling hands took advantage of his preoccupation and traveled down his back scrapping it with her nails. They traveled around his waist and up again to tangle in his chest hair.

T'Pol found herself pushed to the floor. A low growl escaped from her parted lips before he captured them.

* * *

She awoke naked, limbs tangled with the man who lay facing her. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of him. Sweat pasted his hair to his forehead. Eyes closed, he breathed on her. She didn't mind the smell of sweat and their love making.

He woke sensing her eyes on him. She didn't know whether she should move her hand resting on his leg. When he didn't move his resting on her hip, she left hers there.

"Good morning." T'Pol responded likewise and he smiled.

"As much as I want to lay here with you for the rest of the day, I think we need to take a shower and talk."

They talked and ate breakfast. He wanted to know what would happen next. She didn't know what to say. He hid his disappointment well, but she could see it.

When she stoically told him in her stoic voice, "Please do not take my intentions in the wrong way. I would...like a more permanent attachment with you." he didn't expect it.

A huge grin accompanied his response, "I'd like that too."

Phlox saw no signs of the bacteria in Jon later that day. For the next six days, her pon farr returned. And each time the rain poured down on her.


End file.
